


It's Not Always Rainbows and Butterflies (But Sometimes It Is)

by piratekelly



Series: Things You Said [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 16:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4486002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratekelly/pseuds/piratekelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: dydia, things you said after you kissed me</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Always Rainbows and Butterflies (But Sometimes It Is)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chiomi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiomi/gifts).



> come hang out at muchfic-manypair on tumblr, where i flail over just about every pairing in the TW fandom and cry
> 
> unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own, and i plan on coming back and cleaning this up when i haven't had too much wine

In the wise words of Bowling for Soup, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He always imagined that when he finally got up the nerve to ask Lydia Martin out on a real date, everything would just fall into place. For years they’d been dancing around whatever it was that had been growing between them since the summer after everyone had finished high school. At that point, most of the pack members had opted to go to schools at least an hour away from Beacon Hills with Lydia heading the farthest, all the way to MIT, and Derek had been busy preparing himself for a rough case of Empty Nest Syndrome. Empty Pack Syndrome? Either way, he was going to miss them a lot.

What surprised him most about that summer was that Lydia spent a good portion of her time before her freshman year of college taking some of her gen. ed. classes online and helping Derek compile all the information they’d gathered since he’d reappeared in Beacon Hills three years ago into his own, more reliable bestiary, one that was free of any trace of Argent bias.

They’d become good friends over the course of those very exhausting, but still rewarding, three months, sharing secrets and having movie nights where they’d fall asleep curled up around each other in the middle of Derek’s couch. By the time mid-August rolled around and everyone started saying their goodbyes, there was an undeniable tension between them. That tension, Derek was to learn, would only strengthen over the years she swept in and out of his life. Derek followed her academic achievements - as he does with all the pack, though he’ll never tell them - as she blew through the Bachelor’s program in three years and was well into her Masters at 21.

His fondness for her only grows with every phone call, every Skype session, every random Snapchat about the guy laying on the grass outside the Education building screaming the lyrics to “I Wanna Fuck You”. It evolves into a full blown crush with every summer she spends hanging around the loft in yoga pants and baggy t-shirts, hair pulled off to one side as she takes notes on quantum physics or or advanced calculus or something that’s way out of his league.

If he never gets to have her as anything other than a friend, he could be happy with that. Just seeing the way the sunlight shining through the windows of the loft smoothes out her edges when she naps between study sessions is more than enough to keep him content.

So naturally, everything changes when she comes home for good.

\--

Two weeks after everyone had returned home, most of which they’d all spent sleeping and eating food that wasn’t made pre-made in a styrofoam cup and cooked in a microwave, they decided to throw a party at the loft just for the pack . And by “party” they mostly meant playing Mario Kart, ordering way too much pizza, and pooling together their collective weed stashes left over from their final weeks of school and lighting up the last of it before real life and drug tests become a thing.

He really shouldn’t be surprised when Lydia whips out a baggy of unappealing green... _something_  that smells like death and the tears of small children when she offers it to the werewolves saying that according to her supplier it will get them, and she quotes, “super fucked up.”

And fucked up does he get.

This is by far and away the best shit Derek has ever had. For as awful as it had smelled (and tasted, he learned) it has to be laced with something absolutely marvelous, like the hair from a unicorn’s mane, or flower crowns, or the barks of itty bitty puppies, because Derek can’t remember being this relaxed, this  _happy_ , in...ever.

He has Lydia sitting right next to him, her warmth and the smell of her fruity perfume creating a wonderful Lydia Martin-shaped bubble around him that he never wants to leave. Now that she’s done with her studies and has officially ended her “no boyfriends, all school” policy, he’s thinking about inviting her over for dinner sometime in the next few days. They can watch movies like they used to, and Derek can fake a yawn and put his arm around her, and that’ll be that. Everything is delightful, he’s surrounded by his pack and the girl he cares about most, and he is so high that he doesn’t have a care in the world. Not tonight. Tonight, Derek does not give a  _fuck_.

Except Derek really has to know where that peachy smell is coming from, because it is wonderful and he kind of wants to bury his face in it.

He lets his nose lead him, because  _that’s_  never gotten him in trouble before, and he finds himself leaning closer and closer to the mesmerizing waterfall of Lydia’s perfect strawberry blond hair. Close enough, it seems, that when she turns around to ask him a question, their noses are nearly pressed together. He chances a glance down at her lips, which are glistening with some gloss she must have put on at some point, and moves back up to her eyes. He doesn’t get a chance to process how close they are, how if he just moved a little bit they'd be touching, before he finds himself moving forward.

It's just a light press of lips on lips, just enough pressure to get across that yes, this is intended, and yes, I absolutely mean it, and please don't pull away. Her lips are sticky sweet and perfect, and kissing Lydia is everything and nothing like he'd imagined it to be. She's soft where he thought she might be more aggressive, seemingly content to follow Derek's lead. His heart skips a beat at the thought, euphoric with the thought that she might just feel the same. 

When he pulls away from her, his faculties come back to him, and the room is deathly quiet. He can feel everyone staring at them, can feel the short puffs of Lydia’s breath against his as she stays close. Derek would be ecstatic,  _should_ be ecstatic, but this isn’t how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be completely sober and in control of himself. He was supposed to make it  _romantic_ , it was supposed to be the beginning of something beautiful, only he doesn’t know how to articulate that right now, so.

So he says the first thing that comes to mind.

“I thought your paper on the possible deeper structure of leptons and quarks was truly insightful work.”

Lydia frowns. “What?”

“I said you smell like rainbows.”

“No you didn’t,” she replies.

“You’re right,” Derek concedes. “I said--”

“You read my papers?” she asks, voice hushed as the rest of the pack continue their conversations.

Derek is frankly offended that she thought he hadn’t, and says as much.

Lydia snorts (in the most dignified way, Derek’s brain supplies, because she’s Lydia Martin and she is nothing if not dignified). “Because you don’t understand the material?”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t support what you do. If you wrote papers on the mating habits of the blue footed booby I’d read those too.”

“Why? You don’t care about physics or math or...blue footed boobys.”

“I really don’t,” Derek replies. “But I care about you.”

This time it’s Lydia who moves in for the kiss, and Derek’s world lights on fire. It’s not aggressive, just a perfect press of lips on lips, noses brushing as Lydia reaches up and palms the hinge of his jaw, caressing his cheekbone as she changes direction. The peach smell was definitely her lipgloss, and it’s ambrosia on his tongue

“Derek Hale,” she murmurs, leaning in to snuggle against his chest, his chin resting on her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Go on a date with me, maybe.”

“Ask me again tomorrow,” she replies.

Derek looks up to see the pack still chatting among themselves like Derek and Lydia making out wasn’t anything to be concerned with. Maybe it’s not, he realizes. At least one of them had to know that this was a possibility. The longer they were apart, the worse he was at containing how she made him feel whenever they were together. But, because of some really powerful weed and a supportive pack, he doesn’t have to hide anything anymore.

“You still smell like rainbows,” he whispers into her hair.

He doesn’t need to see her laughing to know that she is. He pulls her closer as her shoulders continue to shake, and kisses the top of her head.

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be like this, but they got there all the same.


End file.
